CHAPTER XV
Hanna awoke to the noisy squawking of the countless Zargas that inhabited the coast. Daylight already filled the room, and Gunuruk was gone. His makeshift outfit lay discarded on top of the bed, and she decided not to put hers on either. Her shirt and pants still covered everything they needed to, and merely remembering the irritating feel of that piece of sailcloth made her start scratching herself.
After leaving the room and crossing the short hallway, Hanna reached the living room. Seeing the strong fire burning in the fireplace, she went over to warm herself, for the morning was quite cold.
“Hello, Hanna. Did you sleep well?” Bauros’s wife asked as she emerged from the kitchen.
Hanna was surprised. It was the first time the woman had called her by name, and she had done so with such familiarity that a wonderful feeling spread through her.
“Very well. It’s been a long time since I slept in a bed. Where are Bauros and Gunuruk?”
“They’re getting everything ready. I didn’t want them waking you. You were sleeping so peacefully, and… oh, to hell with it! They can manage on their own. You need to build up your strength,” the woman replied with a broad smile.
Hanna smiled too and sat down at the table. Gunuruk had undoubtedly been there not long before, for evidence of his table manners was scattered all over it.
“Thank you for everything. It’s been a long time since anyone treated us this way,” Hanna said as she began filling her stomach.
“You’re a very polite girl. There’s precious little of that around here. I always wanted a daughter, and I’m not saying I regret raising my two wonderful boys. Oddeon knows I loved them more than anything in the world. But now, looking at you, I think that if I’d had a daughter, she would have been like you. She wouldn’t have been so pretty,” she added with a smile, “or so tall, but she certainly would have had a heart like yours.”
“I’m sure she would,” Hanna replied proudly, though somewhat embarrassed. “I never knew my parents, and… looking at your house, your family, I think that if I’d lived with them, my home would have been something like this,” she finished wistfully.
“This will always be your home. Nothing would make me happier than having you here again, though little remains of the home this place once was. Wars are brutal, Hanna. Always remember that. Brutal for those who leave, but also for those who stay behind. There came a day when it felt as though a sword had pierced my heart, and I’ve never been able to pull it out. I never will. But hard as it is for me to admit, my husband is right. Many people think he’s mad, and perhaps it’s true that he talks too much, but you’ll hear very few lies from his lips. All his long life he’s traveled from one place to another. He always tried to be wherever history seemed to be taking shape, and there’s no doubt he knows more than anyone here about what’s happening in the Known World. He’s a brave, restless man, and you should have known him when he was young.”
The woman smiled, her face lighting up.
“He always wanted to be a warrior. That was his greatest dream. But food was scarce, and before long he had a family to provide for. He did it very well, I give you my word. But his strength never faded. He was tireless, just like his sons. He loved them more than anything, and they loved their father. Bauros always said he carried a secret that would bring hope back to this place. He said we had to trust him, because one day goodness would return in all its strength. Those of us who knew him well never doubted him, but my sons went further…”
The woman stopped to wipe away a tear that had escaped from her clear eyes.
“Bauros told me what happened at the tavern. You’re a special girl, Hanna. I didn’t need to see you teach Dokias a lesson to know that. From the moment you entered this house, you filled every corner of it with your energy. No one like you has ever come through that door. But be careful, little one. Your eyes don’t lie, and that look of yours will lead you to only one place. Don’t waste your life. Find a man and start a family. Enjoy them for as long as you can. You’ll never find greater happiness than that. War is no place for anyone, least of all a girl like you.”
Hanna was speechless.
No one had ever spoken to her like that, and she felt loved—perhaps more loved than she had ever felt before—with the sincerity that only a family could offer. An extraordinary sensation passed through her. Her heart beat fiercely, and the hairs on her body seemed to stand on end.
She did not know what to say. She could only think about those words.
“You don’t have to say anything. Eat, little one. Build up your strength,” the woman said, quietly leaving the room.
Hanna continued eating, although her appetite had almost disappeared. Everyone seemed to remind her of her gaze, even though she had always thought her eyes were just like anyone else’s.
As she tried to examine them in the blade of a knife, she wondered what her future might hold.
“A man? A family? Maybe it’s a little early for that.”
She smiled, blushing slightly.
“All we have to do is deliver the dagger in Belonia. We’re almost there. I suppose everything will get better after that. I don’t know how, but it must have all kinds of powers. I’m sure it’ll put an end to the Dark Army. No battles, no wars. It’ll probably be something much quicker, or at least I hope so. I wouldn’t want to find myself in the middle of a war. And afterward, afterward… I’ll go home.”
Hanna sighed wistfully.
“I don’t know how I’ll explain any of this, but I’ll think of something.”
Her thoughts were undoubtedly far too fleeting for the harshness of the world in which she found herself.
Perhaps the peaceful surroundings had made her overly optimistic, more so than ever before, and that was not a good thing. The future would once again be uncertain, difficult, and above all dangerous.
She needed only to remember the past to return to reality. But for the moment she was living in the present, studying her eyes in the worn blade of a knife and dreaming of events that, in most cases, would never happen.
Or perhaps they would.
That hardly mattered.
What mattered now was that they had to leave, and Gunuruk brought her back to reality by throwing open the door.
“Hanna! Awake you already are. Almost everything is loaded. Soon we leave!”
“Wonderful!” she replied in surprise, setting the knife down on the table. “I can’t wait to get going, although I wouldn’t mind staying here a few more days.”
“Impossible that is. Waiting for us they are, where we must arrive. Already delayed we are. If they think we are not coming, leave they may, and that would not be good. No, no, no,” the Snork said, shaking his little head.
Hanna got up and left the house, heading toward the beach.
It was still quite cold, although the sun was beginning to make its presence felt.
Bauros spotted her from the boat and greeted her enthusiastically. Then they all headed back toward the house.
“Everything’s ready!” he said happily. “It’s a magnificent day for sailing. Allow me to say goodbye to my wife, and then we can leave whenever you like.”
Hanna nodded as they entered the living room, which was already so tidy that it looked as though nobody had ever been there.
“Woman!” Bauros shouted.
She appeared, and the two said goodbye with great affection.
Hanna thought they were undoubtedly bound by a profound love.
Then the woman handed them two beautiful tunics, the result of her careful work the previous afternoon.
“Here, take these. You’ll need them,” she said to Hanna and Gunuruk. “The sea is cold, and I’m sure they won’t get in your way.”
“Thank you,” they said together as they accepted the useful gifts.
They put them on without delay, and everyone left the house, including the woman.
“Hanna!” she called. “Don’t forget my words. Don’t waste your life. You’re far too special.”
Hanna gave her a great hug without saying anything.
Then, after reaching the end of the dock, the three boarded the boat and gradually sailed out into the calm ocean waters.
From the beach, the woman kept waving until they could no longer see her.
Hanna was thrilled by this new experience.
It was the first time she had ever boarded a boat—at least voluntarily—and she watched everything happening around her with excitement.
Bauros moved constantly about the deck, releasing ropes, lowering and raising the sails, and sometimes even using the oars.
For the first few minutes, he said nothing. He seemed completely focused on navigating safely through the many rocks that stretched along the entire coastline.
Hanna watched him with fascination. The maneuvers he performed were complicated, quick, and sometimes even dangerous.
Yet he clearly enjoyed them.
The old sailor breathed deeply, his eyes shining. And although his expression was serious and concentrated, the delight that sailing brought him was plain to see.
Gunuruk said nothing either.
Unlike his two companions, however, he did not seem to be enjoying the voyage very much.
From the moment he had boarded the boat and it began rocking from side to side, the Snork regretted having swallowed such an enormous breakfast.
Terrible nausea had seized him.
Curled up and trying not to think about the fact that this was only the beginning of four very long days, he concentrated on getting used to such an unstable means of transportation.
“There we are!” Bauros shouted as he secured a rope and brought the oars into the boat. “Leaving the shores of Ákador is always an adventure. They spell disaster for anyone who doesn’t know them. But this old sailor,” he added with a smile, “the one standing before you, knows them well. Every rock! Every reef! From here all the way to Belonia.”
Hanna laughed.
Although Bauros was something of a braggart, he was overflowing with good humor, and there was no doubt that his words were truthful.
For Gunuruk, however, hearing the old chatterbox might have been the last straw.
He hurried to the stern and noisily emptied his breakfast into the ocean, so dizzy that he nearly fell overboard.
Hanna rushed toward him in alarm.
After helping him freshen up a little, Bauros suggested that he go down into the small cabin.
To the Snork, every part of the boat seemed equally miserable, but at least it would be cooler down there, so he did not hesitate to follow the advice.
“Snorks aren’t seafaring creatures. It’s curious, because you won’t find a better vessel than one built in Antraka,” Bauros said as he took out a pipe.
With the help of a rather primitive kind of lighter, he began to light it.
“Snorks are very special beings,” Hanna added.
“Without a doubt, little one. Though there are many beings inhabiting the Known World, each more extraordinary than the last.”
“Like the giants?” Hanna asked, remembering Drolo and Krulo.
“Yes, giants are certainly bewildering creatures, regarded as beings of the marshes. For a long time it was Oddeon who granted them the status of beings, and he wasn’t mistaken. They’ve decided the outcome of many wars, although it’s never wise to bring too many of them together. They’re stubborn, and they can destroy their own army by trampling it while fighting among themselves. Only the Níbulas seem capable of controlling them.”
“The Níbulas?”
“Yes. Don’t you know them?”
“No. I don’t remember anything about them at all,” Hanna answered.
She recalled what Gunuruk had said and thought this might be a good opportunity to learn more about that world.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” Bauros laughed. “Well, if I can’t refresh your memory, nobody can!”
Hanna watched him attentively, smiling too, waiting for him to begin telling his stories.
He did not keep her waiting long.
“The Níbulas are incredible beings. Not much is known about them. They’re winged creatures that live deep within the forests, guarding them. Wherever there are Níbulas, you’ll also find Delfos, for they say the two are inseparable, that their lineage springs from their union.
“What are they like?” Hanna asked, intrigued.
“They’re small, so small they could hide beneath a warrior’s helmet. But they’re agile and quick. They have two winged appendages that they use to move about, and they can make them glow whenever they wish. But don’t imagine they’re easy to spot. You could have one right in front of you and never notice it.
“They camouflage themselves in the depths of the forest. One moment they can be a tree, the next a rock. Just like the Delfos, who are no bigger than a Snork—slender, cunning, skilled with the bow, able to climb and leap like no other beings.
“They’re magical creatures. They defend the forest and hate those who show no respect for life. They love silence, the sounds of nature, the flowing of a river, or the singing of birds.
“They say they once inhabited the Kingdom of Kalam, but they were driven out in terrible circumstances. Afterward they scattered, fleeing the civilization that seemed determined to take over everything around them.
“Now they’re found in only a few places, but above all in Yrandia, the Lost City, hidden deep within the Dark Forest south of Belonia.
“You’ll also find them wherever there are marsh giants. They seem to hate one another, but deep down they need each other.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
“Yes! Only once, at the wedding of Tuarkkett and Princess Badania, the last rulers of Kettke. It was a magnificent celebration, attended by most of the different beings.
“They had all taken part in the great battle of Bógotra and had managed to defeat Drujas and his armies.
“It was something that spread hope throughout the Known World, and I wasn’t about to miss it. Neither were my sons. They were still young, but the journey was worth it.
“Kettke is unique, little one. And its palace! Kinoria…!”
Bauros stood up.
“Kinoria is the greatest work any being could ever see in these lands. The primordial palace! Something unique, incredible, created to house the King of Kings. Unfortunately, it’s been closed since the fall of Oddeon.”
“Closed?!” Hanna exclaimed, intrigued.
Bauros smiled.
“Yes, little one, closed. You must have taken a terrible blow to the head not to remember that,” he said, puzzled.
Everyone in that world knew those stories. They were things people learned from childhood.
“I can assure you I don’t remember anything,” Hanna replied with another smile, although this time she was somewhat nervous.
“Very well. I’ll start at the beginning…”
Bauros sat down again after checking that they were still on course.
He took a long draw on his pipe and continued.
“Kinoria was created by the Nárakos at the dawn of creation, before the races had formed, before countless beings began roaming the lands that would one day become their kingdoms.
“Before any of that, it was carved from the impenetrable rock of Ikettar by magical powers.
“They say it wasn’t easy, that many periods of darkness had to pass. But such things mean little to those who scarcely know the passage of time—to the Nárakos, whom death seems to avoid.
“Kinoria was meant to be the center of the Known World, the place that would guide the course of history, where justice would be administered.
“But soon after it was completed, disputes arose.
“There had once been many Nárakos, and just as many opinions about who should govern. What had once been a consensus gradually became a struggle in which many perished.
“Only six remained.
“And those six decided to create Sium, the sword that would determine who should rule. A sword that would be just, that would be implacable, and that would become the key to Kinoria.
“It was drawn from the very depths of Ikettar, forged from metals so noble that once completed, it could never be destroyed.
“Sium alone would decide who could wield it, and those words were inscribed upon its sharp blade.
“Only one, only one king, king of kings, king of kingdoms.
“Each of the six Nárakos contributed his power, most believing that the more they gave, the more secure their own position would become.
“They nearly died of exhaustion, and the sword gathered within itself a power unlike anything ever known.
“Kudark was one of them.
“He was ambitious and always believed that he would be the one to reign. Perhaps he never doubted it, and that was why he surrendered almost all his magic, believing he would recover it when he finally wielded Sium.
“But to his surprise, and that of the other Nárakos, none of them could remove it from the place where it had been forged.
“What had happened?
“That was the question they all asked themselves.
“Yet only one Nárako, Vendemur, understood what had occurred.
“Sium had been created with a will of its own. It had to choose the being who would wield it. It alone.
“And so, amid the discontent of the other disappointed Nárakos, they decided to turn to the lesser beings.
“Those who possessed the cunning to govern their own actions, who could rise above their instincts and act according to their intelligence. Those who guided others of their kind and who would later come to be called kings.
“Every last one of them was summoned.
“It wasn’t easy, but all had to be present.
“All were given their opportunity, and all failed.
“But when hope had almost vanished, the turn of the final being arrived.
“The turn of one of those who, at that time, were considered among the weakest.
“The turn of Aureon, chief of those who were beginning to call themselves humans. Frail, dependent beings, yet capable of reasoning like no others.
“And so, when Aureon took hold of Sium and raised it, everyone was astonished.
“Sium had been wielded!
“It illuminated every hidden corner of the cavern in which it had been born.
“The new king had been chosen!
“And when they finally emerged, all those who had been waiting for that moment celebrated.
“At first, their faces showed surprise at the sight of Aureon.
“But there could be no doubt.
“Sium had decided. That was why it had been created, and Kinoria had to be occupied…”
Hanna was spellbound.
Without question, it was the finest story she had ever heard.
Bauros lived every word he spoke. He accompanied his account with gestures and emotion, and Hanna found herself completely captivated.
“What happened next?” she asked curiously.
“Don’t be impatient,” he said, slightly annoyed by the interruption. “This is only the beginning. Now, where were we?”
He scratched his unruly hair.
“Aureon became king!”
“Yes, that’s right. And they say he was a great king.
“Accepted by everyone at first, he founded the Kingdom of Kingdoms, Kettke, and ruled from Kinoria with wisdom.
“There was no doubt that Sium had chosen wisely when it selected its first bearer.
“But once again, disputes arose.
“From the very beginning, Kudark and most of the Nárakos regarded the arrival of the new king with skepticism.
“How could an inferior being wield such power?
“To govern them, the immortals, was inconceivable.
“Not one of them had ever believed such a thing would happen.
“Almost all thought that sooner or later Sium would correct its mistake and return to those who had forged it.
“And so, when Aureon died, all the beings were summoned once more.
“The Nárakos undoubtedly welcomed the passing of the first great king with hope.
“All except Vendemur.
“Perhaps he knew what would happen—that Sium’s decision was already irrevocable, and that the gift of bearing it would pass through the blood of the first chosen one, through his descendants.
“And so it was.
“Only Démolas, one of Aureon’s sons, succeeded in raising Sium again.
“This made everyone realize that humans were destined to govern that world from then on.
“And in a sense, it enraged the Nárakos beyond measure.
“Well… all except Vendemur.
“He was certainly not like the others.
“At that moment, they declared that they would not obey the rightful king of Kettke, and it wasn’t long before they made good on their words.
“Vendemur had become an obstacle to the destruction of the newly founded Kingdom of Kingdoms.
“From the beginning, he had always remained faithful to Sium, and that greatly troubled his own kind.
“And so, halfway through Démolas’s reign, under the pretext of restoring the consensus that had once united them, they agreed to meet in a neutral place.
“The chosen location was the Kingdom of Kalam, the kingdom of the Níbulas and Delfos.
“They accepted with great excitement, hoping that everyone might once again live in peace.
“But that hope became a nightmare.
“For there, the greatest battle the Known World had ever witnessed up to that time was fought.
“The six Nárakos alone were enough to turn that extraordinary forest into what it is today.
“It was a magical, extraordinary battle, in which an incredible power was unleashed.
“They say it could be seen from every kingdom.”
Bauros stopped, perhaps to catch his breath, for the passion of his storytelling was exhausting.
“Go on! What happened next?” Hanna asked, intrigued.
Bauros took another substantial draw on his pipe, savored it, and slowly exhaled the smoke before continuing.
“Afterward, only destruction remained.
“The Nárakos had believed that disposing of Vendemur would be a simple task, even simpler than destroying Démolas and his entire bloodline.
“But it wasn’t.
“Vendemur was a wise man.
“They say he was the chosen one and that he renounced Sium. But whatever the truth, when they forged it, he contributed only the power that was needed.
“He had understood the purpose of what they were doing from the very beginning.
“The sword they intended to create would accept only what it had been conceived to receive.
“The power it required was not excessive, but it had to be the right kind.
“Any power born of greed, resentment, envy, or the desire to rule would be rejected. And whoever offered such power would accomplish nothing except losing it forever.
“That was why the Nárakos failed to obtain what they wanted.
“It was a savage, exhausting struggle, and in the end only two remained: Vendemur and Kudark.
“The latter, almost at death’s door, begged for his life.
“They say he crawled like a repulsive Díbora.
“And in the end, Vendemur, perhaps too exhausted to finish him off, merely exiled him to Órdoka, to the dormant volcano of Drokar, where he was to spend the rest of his days…”
“What doing?” Gunuruk suddenly asked as he came back up.
“Nothing. We were just talking,” Hanna replied, looking surprised, for until that very moment she had been completely absorbed in the story.
“I was refreshing her memory. It seems she doesn’t even remember the sad history of this world,” Bauros answered, still enjoying his pipe.
Gunuruk gave Hanna a somewhat displeased look.
She lowered her head, as though she knew that what she had done was wrong.
But then, thinking that surely none of this could hurt anyone, she looked straight at the Snork.
“He was only reminding me about the history of Sium, Kinoria, Aureon and Démolas, and the battle of Kalam. Don’t you think it’s time I got my memory back?” she shouted, a little angrily.
At first, Gunuruk was speechless with surprise.
But he soon understood that Hanna needed to know, that the time had come, and that perhaps she had found exactly the right person.